The End
by Opapea
Summary: There's only one way to wrap things up. JI, SV


Title: The End  
  
Author: Opapea (or Bethanie...whatever)  
  
Summary: There's only one way to wrap things up. J/I, S/V  
  
Rating: PG. A couple of swear words, but not much else.  
  
Timeline: The end of the series -- a long, long, looooong time from now.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. No, really. I'm a high school student. There's really no way in hell I can.  
  
Yes, this is a finale story. No, I don't want the show to end any time soon, and I don't think it will, but I had to write it. With the continuing news that Lena Olin won't be coming back, I have thought about what they'll do to wrap up the Jack/Irina/Sydney storyline, and I decided to write a little ficlet about it.   
  
This story contains information from all three seasons, even though, since this story is taking place in the future, we have no clue how JJ is going to be screwing up this show (I meant that in a good way!) over the rest of it's run, and we obviously don't know what's happening yet.   
  
Only info: LO is not returning, first three seasons, and, because I want to, Jack and Syd make up sometime in the future, and, somehow or another, they have a good relationship with Irina. Just go with it. I can dream.  
  
Also, I left random plot lines out. If you don't see it, well, this story is short -- there's a lot I didn't put in here. It was all wrapped up somehow.   
  
This also has a tad bit of S/V in it, even though they annoyed the hell out of me this past season. I just can't see JJ ending it any other way.  
  
BTW, yes, I know Jack is out of character at the end of this. Once again, go with it.  
  
And one final thing -- this is my first Alias fic. So be nice. I haven't posted piece of fanfic in about two and a half years, so it's a little rusty.  
  
Now that you've made it through the authors notes the size of the fifth Harry Potter book, it's time for the story!  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
Friday morning, early June  
  
Sydney walked into the Joint Task Force center Friday morning for the last time...well, at least for two weeks anyway. Tomorrow, she, Sydney Ann Bristow, was getting married. After tomorrow, she would be Sydney Ann Bristow-Vaughn. Not much of a change, or much of a surprise to their co-workers either, but she had secretly been practicing her new signature since Vaughn proposed 11 months ago. She just couldn't help it.  
  
She spotted her dad across the room. "Hey dad!"  
  
"Hello Sydney." Jack Bristow still didn't smile that much after all these years, but he afforded a small smirk at her giddiness. "Enjoying your last day of freedom, Ms. Bristow?"  
  
"Well, at least both of us won't turn around when they call that name out anymore." Sydney grinned, but then her face fell. "Is that how looked at it when you married mom?"  
  
Jack glanced at his daughter uncertainly, then looked back down at his paperwork.  
  
Suddenly, Sydney realized what she had said. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."  
  
"Sydney, you know as well as I do that I never regret marrying your mother. Even though I know who she really was, I still see those ten years as, for the most part, normal. Including our wedding." He glanced away, reminiscing. "The freedom goes both ways, I guess. I didn't realize this until about three months after Irina and I were married, but even though you are now attached to this person forever, you have this new, strange freedom of loving the person for the rest of your life without uncertainty.  
  
"Usually." He added hastily.  
  
Sydney grinned to herself. She knew her dad, as much as he would never admit it, still cared about her mother very much, and, to some extent, accepted the lies and the truth that their lives together had brought. He even referred to her as Irina at all times now.  
  
She also accepted Irina. It was something no one, even Vaughn, never understood, but it was one of the common things she and her dad often talked about. Even though she hadn't seen or heard from her mother for years -- just random blurbs from her dad about their brief communications -- she sometimes wished she was here. But not in some cell. She knew her dad did, too.  
  
"Dad, can we have lunch together today? I just want to...talk, I guess. My life's going to change forever. I need to. Especially to you."  
  
-------  
  
Jack sat at one of his and Sydney's favorite bistros, waiting for her to come around the corner.   
  
As he waited, his mind wandered to the events taking place tomorrow. His little girl was growing up. Actually, she'd been there for a really long time. Now he just had to face it.   
  
It would be one of the happiest days of her lives, and probably his as well. Seeing her so happy would make him smile, even if the one person they both wanted most to be there couldn't be.  
  
"Dad?" Jack jerked back to reality, seeing Sydney standing in front of him. "I see you wandered off into dreamland. What's wrong?"  
  
He would miss her the two weeks she was gone. A lot. "Nothing. Just thinking."  
  
She nodded, kissed his cheek and sat down. She accepted his response, and didn't push him. Just like her mother.  
  
They talked about last-minute things for the wedding -- the caterer said the fish she and Vaughn had ordered was out of season, Nadia's dress wasn't fitted properly, they weren't going to work for one day of their existence -- as they ordered drinks, and then their food. But Jack could tell something was wrong with Sydney, though, just like her, he wasn't going to push it.  
  
"Sweetheart, is something bothering you?"  
  
"No." Sydney sighed. "Yes."  
  
She sat there for a few minutes, obviously taking her time to word what she was going to see properly. Or make sure she was sane in what she was about to say. Jack couldn't tell.  
  
"I wish mom could be there tomorrow." Sydney said suddenly. "I really do. I miss her, and I know we have the most screwed up relationship on the face of the planet, but she's my mom, and I know she loves me, and believe or not I love her too, and it's my wedding day, dammit! I should get whatever I want." She laughed through her tears. "God, sometimes I just don't know about my mental stability."  
  
"Sydney..."  
  
"No, I'm sorry dad. I shouldn't bringing her up like this to you. I know how much..."  
  
"No, Sydney. What I wanted to say was I wish she would be there too."  
  
"Really?"  
  
He smiled. "Yeah, I do."  
  
Sydney sighed. "Now at least I know I'm not crazy."  
  
"I never said I wasn't."  
  
"Well, at least I know where I get it from."  
  
Jack continued. "I've actually been thinking about her a lot these past few days. I know she wishes she could be there tomorrow."  
  
Sydney looked surprised. "Really? Have you talked to her recently?"  
  
"No, not for seven months."  
  
"Then how do you know?"  
  
Jack grinned. This was a weird day. "As you will soon learn with Mr. Vaughn, you know the person you're married to a lot better than you realize, or want to think you do."   
  
He shrugged. "Besides, you know she wants to be there. Like you said, she's your mother and you love her. It's only natural you would want her there."  
  
They were served their food, and ate in silence for a few minutes.   
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"So you and mom are still married?"  
  
"Technically."  
  
Sydney just shook her head and smiled.  
  
-------  
  
The wedding was, of course, gorgeous. Anyone who would have thought otherwise would have been sorry. A lot of the guests were CIA employees, most of whom were trained in various types of torture tactics.  
  
Vaughn wore the obligatory tux, and Sydney wore a simple A-line dress with a bouquet of roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums. Unusual combination, but it was what her mother had carried. Jack recognized it right away as he took her arm to lead her down the aisle.  
  
Nadia and Weiss stood in as maid of honor and best man, respectively, and little Mitchell Flinkman was the ring bearer. The ceremony was short, sweet, and simple. The couple's life was way too complicated for it to be anything but.  
  
They rented out a yacht for the reception which was, like everything else, minimally decorated. Most of the guests didn't get to stay very long because, as Weiss put it, they had no life and had to be at work early the next morning. Unfortunately, as they all knew very well, criminal masterminds struck whenever they damn well wanted to -- even early on a Sunday morning. It was just one of the perks of the job.  
  
By the time most people had left, there were only about thirty guests left to see the bride and groom off to their honeymoon. It was Weiss' idea to throw broken watches and red wigs at the new husband and wife, but that was, sure enough, rejected. They opted instead for sand -- no one really knew why, but it made just as big a mess as rice.  
  
And then Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn were off, leaving everyone else to clean up the next day. But one person was missing.  
  
Jack.  
  
-------  
  
Dixon sat in his office, sorting through the paperwork from Weiss' last mission. Things had been relatively quiet, for which he was grateful -- especially with Sydney and Vaughn gone. Well, now that technically they were both Vaughns, he'd have to refer to them a different way. Sydney and Michael, perhaps? No, not right. Bristow-Vaughn and Vaughn? Too complicated.   
  
So, Sydney and Vaughn it was. It was good to know some things never change.  
  
His secretary, Julie, poked her head in his room. "Director, you have a call from Sydney Bristow-Vaughn on line one."  
  
Bristow-Vaughn. Still weird.  
  
"Thanks Julie." He turned to his phone and picked up the receiver.   
  
"Hey Sydney! How are you? How's Vaughn? Are you having fun? Why are you calling here? I gave you two weeks off and you're still calling work?" No matter what he was going to call her, she was still the same Sydney.  
  
"We're fine, thank you very much. Italy is so much more beautiful when you're not trying to kill anybody or steal something. You should try it sometime." Sydney paused. "Actually, as much as I'd love to chat with you Dixon, I wanted to talk to my dad. I've tried calling his house and his cell and he hasn't been picking up, so I was wondering where I could find him. Is he there?"  
  
"No, actually, Jack is on vacation too. He left the morning after you did."  
  
"You've got to be kidding me. Where? With who?"  
  
"Well, you might be able to guess who after I've told you where."  
  
Sydney's curiousity could not contain itself. "Then where?"  
  
"Panama."  
  
-------  
  
When Jack told Dixon he was going to Panama, Dixon had assumed he was going there to meet Irina. After all, according to the documents, that's where they had met for the first time after Sydney's disappearance. Contrary to what Dixon had told Sydney though, Jack was not with Irina. In fact, he had no clue where she was. He hadn't for about three years.  
  
Jack had a history with Panama, if it was even possible for a person to have a history with a place. It was one of his first vacations he took with his family as a child. It was the site of his first mission. And, of course, where he and Irina had...gotten closer, to say the least.  
  
He'd also been here a few times when he wanted to disappear. Like after Sydney went missing. In his defense, he had no idea Irina was going to show up. But it didn't surprise him.   
  
He sat at a small pub -- or, in this case, a little hut -- drinking and recalling all that this place reminded him off. Some of it good, some of it bad, but none of it regrettable.   
  
So, after downing a Kahlua Mudslide or two (Jack Bristow and Kahlua -- who knew?), he headed down to the beach. He liked the sense of peace the breaking of the water on the shore brought to his mind. If he had ever been onto it, he probably would have tried yoga on the shoreline. But that seemed too much for people who followed freaky-spiritual-prophetic gurus all over the world.  
  
Oh wait. He had.   
  
He laughed at the thought. It must have been the Kahlua.  
  
"That's a sound I haven't heard in...I don't know, Jack. When's the last time you laughed?"  
  
Jack knew that voice. He'd only been married to the woman for some thirty-odd years. And, once again, it didn't surprise him.  
  
Irina stood behind him, in jeans and a white flowy top, arms folded around her abdomen. They stared at each other for a moment, trying to figure out which one of them was going to make the first move.  
  
Finally, Irina sat down next to him, decidedly non-threatening. Just her -- if she could be Irina without being threatening in some way. But Jack knew she could. He was the only one.  
  
"The weather's awfully nice today." She paused. "You didn't answer my question."  
  
He thought back -- and for the first time in twenty years, it wasn't hard to remember. "Last Saturday. At our daughter's wedding."  
  
Irina nodded. She knew she had missed it. There's no way she could have gone anyway. "Was she...is she...happy?"  
  
"She's wonderful. And Vaughn's more...suitable, I guess, for her now than before."   
  
"I kind of liked him the first time around." She smiled.  
  
Jack scoffed. "Of course you would. Because I didn't."  
  
"So, how was the wedding? I know you're not much of a description guy, but try your hardest. Was Sydney beautiful?"  
  
Jack stared at her. "Are you really asking me that question?"  
  
Another smile. "I guess not."  
  
"She reminded me a lot of you when we got married." Jack hesitated for a moment before going on. "She even wore a similar looking dress, and carried the same flowers you did. Except, you know, she and Vaughn are actually in love."  
  
And, surprisingly enough, there was a long pause.   
  
Finally, Irina spoke up. "Well, you know those crazy kids, with their ideas of love..."  
  
"Too true." Jack responded.  
  
Another pause. "I did love you"  
  
"I know."  
  
"I still do."   
  
"I know."  
  
They sat there for a long time, watching the sun trace it's usual pattern across the sky. As it became apparent the sun was heading downwards, Irina spoke up again. "Jack, does the CIA know you're here?"  
  
"Dixon does. No one else, though."  
  
"So...if I asked you to come with me for a couple of days, no one would know, much less care?"  
  
"Well, the bartender at the pub I raised a good tab at might miss my business, but other than that, I guess not."  
  
And Irina laughed. Loud. For a long time. And, believe it or not, Jack joined her.  
  
"Sometimes I wish we could be like this all the time." She wiped a tear from her eyes.  
  
"This? What do you mean?" He was still smiling.  
  
Irina tried to hold a look of semi-seriousness on her face, and failed. She took a deep breath, and began again.  
  
"Relatively normal. But then again..."  
  
"Irina Derevko and Jack Bristow -- normal? And then, put us together..."  
  
She nodded. "Exactly."  
  
"But two negatives multiplied together do equal a positive."  
  
"Nice to see you passed secondary school math."  
  
"And Sydney hasn't turned out so bad, all things considering..."  
  
"No, she hasn't. Highly unusual. Questionable even."  
  
"You didn't have another affair while we were married, did you?" He laughed some more.  
  
Irina closed her eyes and smiled. "I think you're drunk."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Irina laughed again. "This almost reminds me of the toaster incident all over again."  
  
"Except, instead of being in a smoky kitchen..."  
  
"...We're on a beach watching the sun set."  
  
"While both situations has it's merits, I'm liking this one better."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
Jack looked at her seriously. "No lies. No international espionage. No guns."  
  
"I could fix that for you."  
  
"And, as much as I loved Laura -- God, I loved her so much -- Irina's not too bad herself. Except, you know, when she's pointing some deadly weapon in my direction."  
  
Irina blinked a few times. "Jack..."  
  
"Besides, Irina's a prettier name anyway."  
  
"Jonathon Bristow! I'll get you for that one day."  
  
"Of course you will."  
  
"But, since I really don't want to ruin the moment, I'll just settle for this." And she leaned over and kissed him. Short, chaste, but enough to knock him out of his hazy state.  
  
"You haven't kissed me since right before I was put into solitary."  
  
"Jack, dear, I haven't seen you since then."  
  
"Good point."  
  
They sat there for a moment more, and then Irina stood up and brushed the sand off the bottom of her pants. "Let's go."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Wherever I want to take you."  
  
Jack started to protest, and then realized it wasn't worth it. "OK. Let's go."  
  
They started off down the beach, moving closer together the farther along the surf they walked.  
  
"So," Jack began, "when the grandkids ask where we met, as all children do at one time or another, what will we tell them?"  
  
She grinned. "Assuming you haven't strangled me to death yet?"  
  
He took her hand. "Stranger things have happened."  
  
"Well..." Irina pulled herself closer to him. "We'll tell them we met at work..."  
  
THE END  
  
Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated. 


End file.
